


Shared Histories

by ihaventsleptyetits4amoops (themechanicsnightmare)



Series: Family Matters [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Brothers, Gen, Introspection, Living with your mistakes, grappling your inner demons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26581681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themechanicsnightmare/pseuds/ihaventsleptyetits4amoops
Summary: "It's hard, isn't it?" Alexios said, sitting down beside him on the rocks.Nicoló blinked at him for a long moment. "What?""Learning everything you were raised to believe is wrong. Hard, isn't it?""What would you know about it?" Nicoló asked, perhaps uncharitably, and in response he received a mirthless laugh."A lot more than you'd think, little brother," Alexios said, shaking his head, "A lot more than you'd think."It's the 1150's (ish), and they're in Europe (probably), when Nicoló discovers he has much more in common with his new older brother than he had previously thought.
Series: Family Matters [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933519
Kudos: 35





	Shared Histories

Nicoló stared at the water, watched it flow below him, the tips of small waves turning white as the rocks disrupted its flow. It was peaceful out here, sitting on the rocks, his knees drawn up to his chest. 

They'd set up camp not far away, a small clearing in the woods Andromache had chosen, but Nicoló had separated from the group once everything was settled. He loved his new... family, he supposed, Alexios, thoroughly overjoyed with no longer being the youngest, had certainly taken to calling Nicoló and Yusuf both "little brother", but sometimes he needed some quiet. When his thoughts turned to darker things and he couldn't help thinking about his past, about all his numerous sins, and he didn't want the others to worry, or worse try to make him talk about it. That was when he slipped away to sit quietly in the shadows and hope that they distracted each other long enough not to notice his absence until he could regain some semblance of control of his thoughts and return to them.

So he sat and stared at the water and thought. Thought of the things he was taught, the things he had done, the things he had learned since then and how _wrong_ he was. The thoughts were all-consuming, almost suffocating. 

"It's hard, isn't it?" Alexios said, sitting down beside him on the rocks.

Nicoló startled. He hadn't heard anything coming. He stabbed almost reflexively with the dagger in his hand and was surprised when Alexios only laughed, catching the blade on his own weapon and gently pushing it away.

Nicoló blinked at him for a long moment. "What?"

"Learning everything you were raised to believe is wrong. Hard, isn't it?"

"What would you know about it?" Nicoló asked, perhaps uncharitably, and in response he received a mirthless laugh.

"A lot more than you'd think, little brother," Alexios said, shaking his head, "A lot more than you'd think."

They sat in almost companionable silence for an indeterminate amount of time before Alexios sighed heavily. 

"It all starts in Ancient Sparta," he said. "At least a thousand years ago, never really kept track. After the Persians at Thermopylae, before Athens and Sparta started beating the tar out of each other. Alexander the Great wasn't even a concept." He shrugged. "You get the picture." 

Nicoló really didn’t, but he knew Alexios well enough to know there would be a point soon.

"Anyway, a son was born to the daughter of a Spartan king. He had an older sister, seven years his senior, and while he was still a baby the Oracle of Delphi decreed that he had to die. His father, the perfect Spartan general, agreed, and the child was thrown from Mount Taygetos. His sister tried to save him but in doing so she killed a priest and was cast down as well. It was a death sentence, but somehow the children survived.

The girl ran, found herself on an island and grew into a fearsome warrior. The boy was found by his mother and rushed to the Priests of Asklepios but died in their care." He chuckled a little darkly at that. "Supposedly. A Priestess of Hera lied to his mother and took him to raise herself. She taught him to suffer, taught him that it made him strong, that it made him better than everybody else, that if he made the whole world suffer too they would be better. She taught him that was his purpose. He became a warrior, a demigod, a terror on the battlefield. He became a weapon. A weapon with a face and a name and no control over his own life. Deimos became something to be feared. Both more and less than human.”

Alexios paused for a moment. “And then he met his sister. Athens and Sparta were at each other’s throats by then, the Cult that had raised him controlling both sides of the war, egging them on to more and more brutality, more death, anything to bring about their precious order. Kosmos would rule all. 

“They were looking for his mother, hired his sister to kill his father, but his sister found them first. Piece by piece, she tore the Cult apart. It took her a decade to do it. To burn them to the ground. 

“It took her a decade to reach Deimos too, to show him what the Cult had done. That everything he ever knew was a lie, that he had done some terrible, unforgiveable things. Deimos was killed on a battlefield in Makedonia, shot in the back by someone he was supposed to trust. And he was born when he woke up gasping on the sand, though he didn't know that yet.

“He went back to Sparta, where it all began, almost killed his mother, his sister too, but finally made it home. And he spent the rest of his life learning to be better, learning to be human, trying to make up for his sins. Trying to make the world a better place, the right way this time. Doing what he decided was right. Eventually he learned to live with what he'd done, for the most part." Alexios rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. Nicoló could only stare.

"It's been more than a thousand years since anyone called me Deimos, but I won't ever forget."

"So you're saying I'll be dealing with this for the rest of my life?" It was not a comforting prospect. 

"I'm saying that people can change, and it's up to you to decide who you want to be. I'm saying your past doesn't have to define you. I won't lie and say it's easy, but it's possible. And I'm saying your family will be there for you, if you let them."

They watched each other quietly for a long moment and Nicoló nodded. Alexios smiled and stood, offering a hand to pull him to his feet.

"Come along then, little brother," he said, slinging an arm over Nicoló's shoulders. "When I left, Andromache was saying something about deer." 


End file.
